Forget Me Not
by samuelleslytherin
Summary: For the first time in Sherlock's life, Mycroft brought home a woman and introduced her as his friend. The thing is, Mycroft doesn't have friends. So who is this stranger? and for some reasons, why can't he figure her out?
1. one: Fifteen Years is a Long Time

**IMPORTANT** **NOTE**

Hello my friends!

To those who have read TWICE before, I changed it with FORGET ME NOT. I originally started this story about a year ago when the idea came to mind. I started some chapters and even uploaded some of them and a few wonderful people got to read and review,

 **BUT**

I started editing and as months passed by I realized how much I hated the way I introduced the story. So I rewrote everything all over again. Made some changes, but the plot remains the same.

And so here is the new version: Forget Me Not . I'm really sorry for the inconvenience. Hope you still like it?

Let me hear your thoughts.

 **DISCLAIMER: HARRY POTTER WORLD BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING. BBC SHERLOCK BELONGS TO THE PRODUCERS AND TO SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE. THE PLOT ALONE IS MINE. NO PROFITS EARNED.**

Set at Year 2011.

 **POST BBC SHERLOCK S1E2.** Everything is canon up until that point. I won't change much, just add Hermione to the mix that's all.

Hermione is born in September 19, 1979 which makes her 32. Sherlock is born on January 6, 1980 which makes him 31.

The actual birth date of Sherlock is way back in 1800's so I made up a year for him.

 **WORK NOT EDITED**. Please excuse any spelling or grammatical errors you may find. Some chapters also contains cussing so read at your own risk.

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Mycroft Holmes knew better than to provoke the woman sitting in front of him. Verbally pointing out the fact that her hair has started to frizz so bad to the point of resembling a birds' nest, shortly became part of his very scarce list of bad decisions. It wasn't really his style to provoke people, especially if the situation could turn more volatile than it already is. It was more of Sherlock's really, most of the time Mycroft prefers to keep his mouth shut as he liked to analyze the situation or person in all angles one could possibly find. It made the odds go in his favour. It made him get what he wanted. It made him the most powerful man in Britain. It was crucial for him at all times to be unattached, calm and collected and not doing something as petty as goading. Like he was doing now.

He was also painfully aware that this woman is one of the three people who had the power to hurt him, physically and emotionally. He knew firsthand the consequences of the woman's rage albeit, he just couldn't stop. It was basically suicide to continue, either it may possibly cause the life of his brother or it might lose him his manhood, especially when he already saw the telling signs; the constant twitches of her left index finger, the tight furrowing of her eyebrows and of course, the bird's nest that was already crackling with energy at this point-- yet, he didn't care. He enjoyed every bit of it and needed more.

After all, seeing Hermione Granger for the first time after fifteen years made him a bit vindictive and rightly so.

"Don't tell me you brought me here for just a cup of _tea_ " the witch forcefully gritted the words out and Mycroft could see her trying so hard to remain composed. He almost smirked, but he knew it would set her off too soon and he wasn't finished with her just yet. So he raised a brow instead.

"What's wrong with just tea?" he drawled, his tone with a hint of mocking. "Friends share a cup once in a while you know"

"Friends?" Hermione scoffed, eyes flashing with anger. "We are not friends, never have been and for merlin's sake Mycroft, stop playing around and tell me what you want"

"Who says I'm playing around, let alone want something? It gets a little lonely here sometimes if you must know, and I needed to see a familiar. . .face"

"Please stop testing my patience-"

"How's that Minister Shacklebolt of yours by the way? Does he even do his job or is he the same useless figurehead and you still do all the work for him?"

"I could say the same to you and your minister-"

"I heard the wizarding world is still using owls? Those poor birds. They must be suffering a lot, having to fly those long distances. Maybe that's why I didn't receive any letters from you, your owl must've died on the way"

"Be serious Mycroft!"

"I mean you did send me one did you? You used to send the family every week when you were still at Hogwarts"

She slammed a fist to the table between them, seemingly unable to keep it any longer. "I thought it is of national importance!"

He shrugged, trying to remain casual, but the dark glint in his eyes shows he was anything but that. "it is. . . but it's been fifteen long years, surely the country can wait for us to atleast catch up for a little while? After all, we are friends. More than friends, we are family. Or were. Until you decided to abandon us and forget we even existed"

He saw her sputtering outrageously to find a reply and right at that instance, god bless his soul, he understood for the first time why Sherlock took so much pleasure in rendering people speechless.

Hermione spoke after taking a harsh breath, tone deadly quiet. "I am a very busy woman Mycroft. I have no time for your silly games, whatever it is. Fifteen years may have passed but not once did you seek me out. Why now? I certainly don't think you cared enough for 'catching up', let alone saw us as family, I'm also a hundred percent sure you were happy I left so now, just go straight to the bloody point because I certainly have more important matters to attend to!"

He smirked. This is it. "Oh? More important than my brother?"

Silence.

He saw the change in her face as clearly as he did so all those years ago, when she decided to leave them behind for the greater good, as she described it. All the traces of anger and impatience in her face left in an instant and was sucked by a force of pure melancholy that even he almost flinched at how painstakingly dull her eyes looked compared to the flamed orbs just moments ago. The twitching of the fingers stopped, the knit in her eyebrows slowly started to set in a straight line and the hair even seemed to calm down.

Hermione smiled but it held no humour. "So this is about him then?"

"When was it not about Sherlock?" He replied wistfully and he saw her turn to look out the window, slowly getting lost in her own thoughts. For the first time since he saw her appear out of his fireplace an hour ago, Mycroft finally gathered up the courage to look at her closely. A lot has changed, that much was certain. She definitely was no longer the lanky teenager he remembered her to be, but that part didn't even surprise him. What did though, was the way she composed herself. She stood tall, head held high, even when she was clearly lost in her own reverie it didn't affect the way she brought herself. Her stance demanded respect, her movements were deliberate and graceful and her gaze screamed brilliance and maturity. If it wasn't for the familiar violent temper she still had after all these years, Mycroft might've thought she was a different woman completely. It looked like she finally got out of her self-imposed shell, got rid of all the insecurities and finally evolved into a woman she knew she was capable of, and she did. It shouldn't really surprise him, but it has been so long after all. He spoke after a while, suddenly and strangely subdued at the obvious change in her mood. It felt no longer right to ire her further.

"I'm angry at you, you know"

She seemed to remember that she still had company, and her gaze snapped back to his. "I know. I just don't understand why"

He shook his head exasperatedly. "I thought you were the aware one? Surely you're not as dense as this"

"You're angry at me because I didn't make my presence known for fifteen years?" She frowned. "How is that suppose to make sense Mycroft? We've never really gotten along well enough for you to care. You hated me when we were but children"

All he could do was to let out a rueful chuckle. If he doesn't regret saying what he's about to say next then he must be really getting older than he thought, or _maybe_ , it was simply because deep down he was just glad to see her again. Probably the former. "I never thought I would ever find myself admitting this in my whole life, but I did and still does care. You were the only other person idiotic enough to care for my brother as much as I did, probably even more and I admired you for that. It was a slap in the face when you left and I realized how hard it actually is to look out for Sherlock when you were no longer around". Mycroft also knew he took too long to realize it, and for all the rigid beliefs he sprouted about the impracticality of sentiment, he was still human after all and he found that he has learned to be quite fond of the only person who could handle Sherlock Holmes, albeit blind to it for a long time.

"Mycroft-" Hermione stuttered, out of words. Of all the things she pictured happening in this meeting, including the scenarios where she'd hex his balls off, this was definitely and undeniably not part of it. Merlin, she did not think a day would come where she'll hear Mycroft admit he cared for someone else aside his brother, let alone admit that he realized something he did not before. Her mind reeled with indignation and she wondered if she was just hearing things or this was not Mycroft sitting in front of her. In the end, she felt an unexpected warmth settle in her chest and a little urge to cry her eyes out. Oh how she longed to hear those words when they were still kids. "Goodness, Mycroft. I . . . I d-don't know what to say"

"An apology would be a start" he glared at her, although now it was only half meant. He seemed resigned more than anything, and all he could feel now was the immense relief that finally, finally, she's here. "All these years I've been at my wit's end trying to keep Sherlock alive. You know how he is, you know more than anyone and I'm just angry you didn't bother to find out how things were playing out. You have no idea how much has changed Hermione"

Hermione wanted to bow her head in shame, but instead looked at him straight in the eyes. She wanted him to see she was genuine in this, that she just did what she had to do even if it lost her too much. She spoke softly. "I'm sorry Mycroft, I really am. I just didn't know how to approach you and it was true, you never did seek me out, until now of course. I was assuming I was no longer needed. It was also all my fault why it ended up like this. I knew what I was signing for when I made the decision, I knew and I had to stood by it. . . and it was just so hard, so bloody hard and it took me a very long time to get my self together until it was all I could focus on"

Mycroft made a move to speak but she cut him off with a raise of her hand. She wasn't done yet. She needed to let it all out in the open, as she kept it to herself for far too long. "You have no idea how many times I was this close to knocking at your door, too much for me to count. There were even times where I found myself in muggle London, hoping to bump into him despite the sheer stupidity of it all, before I scold myself and go back home. Alas, I'm not the impulsive girl you always thought me to be, and I have quite the strong sense of self-control and a strong sense of pride, if I must admit. I couldn't let myself be known Mycroft. I had to stand by my decision. I didn't know what else to do. I didn't think I deserved to go back . . ."

Hermione paused for a moment, catching her breath. "When I found your letter this morning, I was so angry. Everything was finally going well in my life, I had regained a sense of balance. The ministry was doing good, my research projects were going very well. Heck, even the wizarding world was slowly starting to change for the better. No more prejudice. No more conflicts. I finally felt a bit happy, because I knew it was somewhat because of my efforts. Then your letter came and it was like the world came crumbling back, like all those years building myself back up was futile because I forgot a tiniest detail, the life I tried so desperately to leave behind and was now catching up." She sighed and let out a small laugh, amused at the drama of it all. "But I was happy you know? I was so ecstatic that you sought me out. I wondered how you looked like now, I wondered how you were doing. How Sherlock's doing. For a split second I forgot everything else, and all I could focus on was that I was going to see you again, see him again. But then I read the part where you said 'it is of national importance' and I was snapped back to reality, back into being angry again. Figured you only wanted to speak because the country is in danger"

There was a pregnant silence, the air seemed to freeze after the confession and it was Mycroft who broke the ice. Although his eyes were soft with understanding, his smirk on the other hand was as insulting as it could get. "Dear Lord, I forgot how emotional you could get"

Hermione's mouth snapped open in shock. It was not the response she expected but it was Mycroft after all and she should've known and because of the absurdity of it all - she woke up like any other day certainly not anticipating to meet a very important figure of her past - she laughed because it seemed utterly ridiculous, how he could go to provoking the hell out of her to confessing he cared for her all this time to insulting how emotional she could get, despite how she had every right to be, considering how much was going on. She laughed harder when she saw the baffled look on his face. "And I forgot how confusing you could get. You were always the hardest one to understand, more so than your siblings"

Mycroft pretended he did not hear the casual mention of his ' _siblings_ '. He liked to go on with his life like he only had one. With a quick glance at his watch, he sighed and cleared his throat. "I think that's enough catching up for now. Time is quite running out and we need to get to the main reason why you're here in the first place"

As if on instinct, Hermione sat straighter, demeanor instantly changed to one he would assume her business mode. He wanted to smile a little at that. "Alright. You have my attention"

"Have you ever heard of the name Moriarty?"

hgshhgshhgshhgshhgsh.

"Sherlock dear, what was that noise I heard ear-" Mrs. Hudson, esteemed landlady of Baker Street, stopped mid-sentence at the sight of the furiously glaring doctor signalling her to keep quiet.

With excruciating care, John Watson managed to tiptoe across the room without a single creak. When he arrived at the main door where the landlady was, he almost sagged in relief. " _Bloody hell Mrs. Hudson, keep your voice down!"_ He said in a hushed whisper, at the same time trying to calm his adrenaline.

" _Why, what's wrong?_ " Taking the hint that it was something serious, the older woman whispered back.

" _You're going to wake him up!"_

 _"Who?"_

" _Sherlock!"_

"He's sleeping?" Mrs. Hudson gasped loudly, unable to hide her shock. When John's eyes bulged in panic, she went back to whispering. " _He's sleeping?"_

" _Yes!"_

 _"How on earth is that possible? It's one in the afternoon!"_

 _"Exactly!"_

 _"He never even sleeps at night!"_

"Yes, but I finally managed to drug his drink", a brief bubble of laugh escaped John's mouth, giddy that after numerous and countless attempts, he finally succeeded and it was damn a good timing at that. All morning the now sleeping idiot, thank jesus for small miracles, wouldn't stop pestering him as he tend to do on days without a case. In the middle of all the ruckus with Sherlock getting close to murdering the smiley on the wall once again and in bouts of arguments between him and Mr. Skull, John with sweat on his forehead, managed to slip a sleeping drug on his friend's drink unnoticed.

When Sherlock turned away from the skull, he frowned at the sight of a fidgeting John. "You're sweating, why are you sweating?" He asked with a raised brow.

With a lot of effort, John casually walked to his room and shrugged. "Oh just because"

It might have been the boredom or his unfinished argument with Mr. Skull but whatever it was, it made Sherlock awfully oblivious to how John was basically skipping in his steps. Minutes later, the detective passed out snoring.

At the moment, even Mrs. Hudson was grinning from ear to ear. It was truly a marvelous event. " _That's wonderful John! where is he?_ " she whispered excitedly.

 _"In his couch"_

 _"Can I see him?"_

 _"No! You'll wake him up!"_

 _"But I've never seen Sherlock asleep before dear. I'm awfully curious"_

 _"He looks the same as any other sleeping person Mrs. Hudson!"_

 _"But it's Sherlock-"_

 _"It's just Sherlock"_

" _I'm_ _a very old lady now John, I won't get to have this opportunity again"_

John groaned. Trust the older woman to always resort to guilt tripping. "Fine"

The two adults tiptoed their way across the room to where Sherlock was sleeping at his black leather couch. At the sight of him curled up on one side, with his wild head of curls messier than ever, Mrs. Hudson gushed in adoration.

"Oh he's so adorable"

Despite of himself, John couldn't help but agree. The consulting detective indeed was adorable when asleep, especially with the wild curls he calls hair covering half his eyes and John could only wish he didn't know how much of a beast the man actually is when awake.

Three hours later, the two was sipping tea quietly at the little kitchen of Mrs. Hudson, savouring every single minute of peace. With hints of little mischievous smiles on their faces, it was clear that both of them was enjoying the calm before inevitably, Sherlock wakes up with a boom.

They did not expect however, when seconds later the boom became quite literal and loud and almost half of Baker Street was blown off to pieces.

Alas, there were things too good to last forever.

hgshhgshhgshhgshhgsh.

Hermione sat quietly besides Mycroft, the man she had known almost all her life, not knowing what to say to break the thick silence that descended upon them in the backseat of his car as they go on their way to see Sherlock.

 _Sherlock_.

She didn't know yet what to make of that. She tried desperately not to remember the last time she saw him, the moment when his pale blue eyes morphed into a blank, lifeless gaze when she uttered the obliviate. Taking a deep and much needed breath, she slammed her occlumency shields into place, having mastered the art a long time ago, and focused on how she was going to handle this the best way she could.

It was how she dealt with things that went beyond her control, resorting to occlumency, as it kept her unneeded feelings out of the way. It was necessary, she always reasoned out in her head, necessary for all the things she gets herself into. She needed occlumency when she was slowly infiltrating the ministry. She needed occlumency when she faced all those pureblood bigots in the Wizengamot. She needed occlumency when she attended the weekly dinners at the Burrow. She needed occlumency to forget the worst of the memories, including the ones in her childhood.

She definitely needed occlumency now. She knew no other way if she was to face Sherlock.

Mycroft gave her a choice of course, when he asked her if she could help him. Albeit Hermione already knew her answer way before the question was uttered. She had to help him. She had to do this and she had to do this with a clear and empty mind.

 _"Moriarty is one of the most dangerous men in the country, possibly in the world" Mycroft said with a deep frown. "and possibly more than me"_

 _"What does Sherlock have to do with him?_

 _He grimaced. "Sherlock happened to expose more than one of his funny businesses and Moriarty got angry. Sherlock being the bloody idiot that he is, continues to stick his nose into matters he has no part of"_

 _"If the funny business you're referring means criminal activities then isn't Sherlock doing the right thing?"_

 _"Clearly you don't think he's doing this out of the goodness of his heart do you? He's just doing this for his own entertainment"_

 _"So you're saying is..."_

 _"What I'm saying is Hermione, is that Sherlock doesn't know the gravity of what he's doing let alone have a faintest idea of who he is dealing with. And now his life is basically on the line"_

 _"What do you need me for then?" She asked gravely, but she felt she already knew._

 _"I need you to move in to Baker Street. Keep an eye on him. It may sound like I'm asking you to be a spy or a baby sitter but I know no other more capable than you"_

 _She tried to refuse even though deep down she knew it was futile. "but why? Why me? Mycroft I have other matters to attend to. Wizarding Britain is-"_

 _"In good hands" he interrupted. "you know yourself that Shacklebolt is atleast capable, despite your interference, and you said it yourself that everything is already going well. Hermione you're the only one I can trust, the only option I have left. I don't think his old landlady would fit for the job, not even his so called friend John Watson"_

 _"Mycroft-"_

 _"It's your choice. You can leave now or you can come with me"_

Hermione shook the conversation out of her thoughts and buried them as well under the thick layer of her shields. She could've just chosen to leave. After all it was so easy to walk away, especially when she was capable of apparation. Yet she didn't, she couldn't. It was out of the question. If she was willing to sacrifice everything she had countless of times for the sake of the safety of the wizarding world, the world who cursed her for her blood, the world who stripped her of her innocence, the world she only knew of at eleven then she was definitely willing to risk her life this time for Sherlock; for the man (a boy back then) who offered her friendship when no one else didn't, for the man who showed her how to be brave, for the man whose pale blue eyes never failed to make her heart--

She hardened her occlumency walls in her head.

No use to dwell on things forbidden. She just had to focus on her job. The car made a right turn, and the soft vibration of the engine calmed her nerves a bit. She could see Mycroft sitting rigidly at the edge of her vision, his mouth forming into an unconscious frown. Whoever this Moriarty was, it did seem he was nasty business.

A couple of agonizing minutes later, the vehicle finally stopped in a halt. "Sir, there's a huge crowd ahead, I can't drive any further" informed the driver worriedly.

"We'll walk from here" Mycroft replied and got out of the car first, and in a show of uncharacteristic gentlemanly behavior, opened the door for her. Nonetheless, she muttered a quiet 'thank you' and followed him up the street. Indeed people were scattered everywhere, seemingly caught up in a commotion, and even the flash of blue and red lights of muggle police cars were present.

"What happened?" She asked worriedly and gasped when she finally saw the building that was almost blown off to pieces.

Mycroft nodded at one of the police officers as they passed through a couple of yellow tapes. He took something out of his pocket, which turned out to be his mobile, and typed aggressively before answering her. "Gas leak, so they say. He's starting Hermione. He's making his first move"

"Who? Moriarty?"

"Do not utter his name" he hissed, and walked straight inside 221B, gesturing her to follow quickly. "He has eyes and ears everywhere. Be careful"

Hermione was suddenly reminded of the second wizarding war, when they couldn't even utter Voldemort's name as it was a taboo. Harry's accidental slip of the name only led her to the scar forever engraved in her forearm. Before she got too carried away in her recollections, however, she was distracted by a distinct shouting just above the stairs they were currently climbing on.

"How dare you drug me to sleep! Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"You were losing out of control! Bored to death! How can you blame me for resorting to certain measures!"

"I don't care! You made me miss the occurrence of the explosion! I could've witnessed it with my own, wide awake eyes!"

There was a silence and then there was an indignant shout, "Wait, you're not angry because I almost killed you for making you sleep? You're angry that you missed the explosion?!"

"What did you expect you imbecile!"

"Jesus you're unbelievable!"

With each step that Hermione took, at the same time restraining her erratic heartbeat but only barely, it was obvious that one of the two arguing voices belonged to Sherlock. She could recognize his voice anywhere. Finally, they arrived at the entrance of the room which quite resembled chaos and the two men arguing snapped their attention towards Mycroft who managed to clear his throat impressively loud.

"Gentlemen, your bickering could be heard all the way down the street" Mycroft drawled arrogantly and Sherlock's eyes rolled in annoyance before it squinted suspiciously and focused on her.

"What do we have here?" Pale blue eyes met golden brown ones, and at that instant, Hermione thanked the stars, or god or merlin or whoever made her a witch, that she was capable of occluding and that she was capable of forcing down her rapidly whirring thoughts to the depths of her mind.

She frowned and managed to speak without pause. "It's a _who_ , and the name is Hermione Granger"

 **tbc.**

 **(something is wrong with the server these days, if this chapter has a wrong format please let me know so that I can try and edit)**


	2. two: Welcome Home and Welcome Back

**Hello everyone! Sorry this took so long. I've been so busy with school and everything else. Hope you guys are still interested.**

 **Enjoy!**

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 **Presently**

"Brother mine, let me do the honors of introducing a good friend, Ms. Granger" Mycroft smirked and looked absolutely pleased with himself as he sat down in the nearest couch. "she informed me this morning of her transfer in Baker street and I simply couldn't pass up the. . .opportunity"

Two voices answered at the same time at this statement.

"You don't have friends"

"She's moving in our flat?"

Sherlock eyes went wide in horror but before he could say anything else, John asked again. "She's moving in our flat?"

"No Dr. Watson, she's moving to 221C" Mycroft replied, choosing to ignore his brother's comment.

"No no no no no no no _no_ " Sherlock ranted almost hysterically. He ran his fingers through his hair in an aggressive swipe and glared at his brother. "You will not give me a babysitter! Absolutely not!"

John frowned in confusion. "A babysitter? What are you talking abou-"

"Is this because of the so called gas leak earlier?" he continued on his rant, walking across the room back and forth in a dizzying manner. "What do you know that I don't? Tell me Mycroft or I swear to god-"

Mycroft blinked innocently. "You'll what? And what do you mean babysitter? I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about"

"Oh don't you act innocent on me Mycroft! You have no friends!" Sherlock exclaimed with an accusing finger.

"I'm hurt brother, comparing me to your level"

"How presumptuous! my level is way beyond you"

"Back to your pitiful delusions, I see"

Sherlock stopped with his tirade and grounded out through gritted teeth. "Enough. Tell me what you know or I'll remove your _friend_ out of this flat with my own hands"

"I'd love to see you try" Hermione who was watching them banter with focused interest, suddenly piped in, smiling sweetly.

The three individuals assessed each other through narrowed looks in a silent challenge to see who would yield first. Seconds passed by and a couple more. And then --

John Watson snapped. "CAN ANYONE TELL ME WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS GOING ON?"

Three pairs of eyes stared at him, suddenly remembering the other company they have.

"I apologise Dr. Watson" Hermione composed herself before the brothers could and went to the man, hands extended for a shake. "Pleasure to meet you. I'm Hermione, and I am indeed moving here in Baker street. Mycroft recommended the place to me"

John, looking a bit wary at her civility, shook her hands slowly. If she really is Mycroft's friend, then there's no telling what kind of person she is. He knows enough not to trust anyone blindly especially those who associate themselves with the Holmes'. "Pleasure is mine" and before he could stop himself, "Are you really Mycroft's friend?"

"Yes" Hermione laughed, genuinely amused. "hard to believe right? But we are, we come a long way back"

At this, Sherlock protested indignantly. "That's a lie! Mycroft has no friends. You are merely here to do whatever he wants to do. And it has to be in connection with the explosion. It's too much to be a coincidence that Baker street blew up and Mycroft appeared with a _friend_. I'm sure of it".

"Are you Mr. Holmes?" Hermione raised an elegant brow. "because I beg to differ. I'm here all the way from Scotland to do some research in relation to work and I needed a place to stay temporarily. Your brother was so kind to tell me of Baker street" she moved from her spot near the doctor and walked to where Sherlock was, standing directly in front of him. She looked at him straight in the eyes. "He also told me you were here. I asked to be introduced to the infamous Sherlock Holmes and I was very impatient to finally meet you. After all, your brother told me so much about you. So go on, figure me out and tell me if I'm lying. I dare you"

The room went quiet. Mycroft from his couch, was wearing a very manic glint in his eyes, like he was so ecstatic about something. John on the other hand, stood still with mouth open in shock as he witnessed something he never saw before,

For once Sherlock was silent.

It went on for a full minute and no one moved. The only visible movement was Sherlock's eyes rapidly going over through the form of the woman standing in front of him. After what seemed like too short for Mycroft's enjoyment, too long for Hermione's comfort, and too mind blogging for John, Sherlock spoke.

"No. Forgive me Ms. Granger? . ." the man cleared his throat and "I believe you are not lying"

Hermione smiled wanly. "Thank you Mr. Holmes and it's quite alright"

At his vantage point in the couch where he could see everything, Mycroft noticed that Hermione was deliberately putting her hands on her back to hide a twitching finger. At this he could tell something was already wrong and amusement forgotten, he stood up and addressed his brother. "I hope it's settled now Sherlock. You always make a big deal out of everything"

He grabbed his umbrella and offered an arm to Hermione. "But I do have a case for you, that's also why I came. Im going to send it later but for now, we're leaving. If its alright Hermione?"

"Yes please. Thank you Mycroft, I'm quite tired actually. Will we meet the landlady on our way out?" Hermione asked with a smile and took Mycroft's offered arm as they walked out to the door.

"You can do that tomorrow, we can go for now"

"Alright" she turned back as a last greeting and smiled. "Gentlemen, I'll see you around"

 **hgshhgshhgshhgshhgshhgsh**

 **August 1996**

"Sherlock"

"You don't look well"

"Sherlock"

"I see so many things on you right now Hermione but I need to hear what you've been up to these past few months from your yourself"

"Sherlock-"

"And also tell me why my brother is here"

Mycroft listened silently behind the kitchen door, only a wall away from the two people in the living room next to him. He imagined this moment for a very long time, worked hard just as long to see it happen, for the sweet moment where he would finally witness Hermione Granger walking away from their lives forever. He hated her the moment they met. He hated her so much he wanted her gone and it was finally happening now. He should be happy. He should be beyond ecstatic.

Instead, Mycroft just felt lost.

"Sherlock, I missed you" there was a sound of footsteps moving and a short silence afterwards. Mycroft could sense it was Hermione who moved to hug his brother. _Silly physical affections,_ he always thought. It was one of the main reasons he hated her so much. She always influenced Sherlock to participate in those frivolous activities. Sentiment makes you weak. She makes him weak.

It angered him so much every time he sees her doing these things, but now Mycroft only felt lost.

"I missed you too" was a voice Mycroft could recognise as Sherlock but could never fathom how it sounded so. . .human. Then in a flash it was once again, not. "Your skin, your eyes and everything else tells me you haven't slept in days. Pale as a bloody ghost. Looking at the state of your hair, your stress level right now must be a ten. Your lips. Cracked. Parched. I haven't heard from you for months. Tell me, are you going through adolescence or are you killing yourself?"

There was a scoff and then a sudden yelp. Mycroft could sense once again that Hermione must've landed one of her head smacks. He hated that part of her too. Always so violent and undignified. "Astute observation as always but you still lack the ability to flatter women"

"I don't see the need too"

"Whatever. Come here"

"You still haven't told me what you've been up to"

"Just come here"

It was silent again for a long moment.

"Hermione, can you let go now? My arms are becoming stiff"

There was a mumbled response that Mycroft couldn't quite catch and then —

" _Obliviate_ "

There was a soft thud and a knock a few seconds later at the kitchen door Mycroft was currently leaning on for support. He opened it and expected to find Hermione in tears. It was also one of the things he hated most about her. She was so emotionally fragile it seems she would cry at anything. He hated how Sherlock seemed to tolerate it. He hated her for making Sherlock tolerate it. Tears make you weak. It does not solve your problems. It's only a waste of time.

Yet, Hermione wasn't crying at all.

Her eyes were dull, lifeless, and her voice became something that sounds like him.

"It's done. I'll leave the rest to you"

 **hgshhgshhgshhgshhgshhgsh**

 **Presently**

"It's done. I'll leave the rest to you"

"Who was that?"

"My secretary" Hermione Granger replied with a sigh. "I asked her to arrange some things for me, sent her access to my files so she could clear everything up for the mean time. . ."

She paused and bit her lip. Mycroft could obviously see something was bothering her with the way she was sitting so frigidly besides him at the backseat of his car. They were on their way to Grimmauld Place per her request. He asked her where she would be staying for the night and she told him it would at Harry Potter's house.

Mycroft would've offered his home in the first place, but he felt it would be too much for her to take considering what she just agreed to do for him hours ago. In any case, it relieved him to know who this Harry Potter is. After all, everyone important knows who Harry Potter is. It's just a bonus that he also happens to be the best friend of the woman sitting next to Mycroft.

"Mycroft do I really have to do this?" Hermione turned to face him with a worried frown.

He replied calmly. "Yes. Soon enough you'll understand why. I'll pick you up tomorrow at 8 in the morning"

"But-" she sighed again and finally giving in to the temptation of the luxury of Mycroft's cushion leather seats, she slumped and rested her head in the car window. "Do you have any idea what I just did a while ago? That encounter did not go well at all."

"You mean other than holding up pretty well under Sherlock's incessant suspicions?"

Hermione huffed out a laugh at that. "He's still the same Mycroft. I expected him to change a little at the least but he's still the same. That's why I'm so worried he let that conversation go so easily"

Mycroft was worried too, he understood exactly what she meant but nonetheless he asked, "what do you mean?"

"Did you see that look in his eyes? It meant he saw me as a challenge, or more like a puzzle. A puzzle for him to solve! Goodness, I'm barely processing the fact that we've finally spoken after so long and now I have to manage dealing with him and keeping him safe at the same time"

"Again, you seemed to handle it pretty well"

"It's because I have magic Mycroft" she replied so forlornly that the man next to him almost flinched. "I have occlumency. I could hide away everything — thoughts, feelings and so on but he's going to notice that too because occlumency is too perfect an act for him not to notice"

At this Mycroft frowned and finally turned to look at her with a questioning brow. "I don't understand what you mean"

"It means he can't read anything on me. He won't know if I'm lying or telling the truth because occlumency hides away literally everything to the point that the act is perfect. Too perfect for Sherlock not to be suspicious about. Now he's going to breathe down my neck until he figures out everything"

"You're exaggerating"

Hermione only shook her head in resignation. "Trust me, I'm not"

 **hgshhgshhgshhgshhgshhgsh**

For the first time in John Watson's life, even if it pained him to admit, he was bothered to see Sherlock Holmes so quiet.

In fact, the man was so quiet and still he was barely moving at all.

For the first hour he went like this, John only thought he was just in his so called mind palace again so he really didn't think much about it. On the second hour, he noticed Sherlock's eyes were wide open. It was never open during his mind palace escapades. He started getting worried then and by the third hour he was starting to panic.

"uhm. . . Sherlock?" John approached the man sitting in the black leather couch hesitantly. "Are you alright?"

Without moving an inch or even blinking, Sherlock replied. "Yes, I am. Go away"

At this, John's panic turned to outright hysteria. Sherlock never answers. With brute force, he slapped the man on the back. "Okay, that's it! What are you thinking about?"

"That woman, something about her is not right" was the reply, seemingly unperturbed by the sudden violence. This unnerved John too. He expected Sherlock to hit him back or something.

"Who?"

"Hermione Granger"

"What do you mean?"

"It seems you're becoming more of a dunderhead lately" Sherlock retorted with an aggravated roll of his eyes. He then proceeded to stare into nothingness once more. "But I couldn't see a single thing on her"

With force, John swallowed his pride and asked again. "What do you mean?"

"Everything I saw about her doesn't add up. Her teeth—"

"Jesus, you were checking out her teeth?"

"—shows that one or both of her parents are dentists. You'd only see teeth that good if it was maintained from birth. Her skin complexion, hair, and everything else tells that she's living a comfortable life. That connects when she said she does research. Researchers are paid pretty well and more so if she's one under Mycroft and that's how they got to know each other but that's the part where it gets bloody confusing—"

Stopping on his tirade, Sherlock stood up and started pacing back and forth completely ignoring John who was trying to get his attention. "Although going back, if she's really a researcher and I can't tell if she was lying or not and that irritates me more than I'd like to admit but something about her stance, her posture, her stare it reminds me of. .of. . ."

" _you_ " he stopped again at the sudden realization and looked at John with wide eyes.

John raised his brow in confusion. "Me?"

"Yes! Exactly! You! She's a soldier, or used to be. Bloody hell why didn't I see that earlier! But again maybe because it didn't add up. Everything I saw was a mediocre life of a researcher, even the way she talked and moved was too. . .perfect. Yes, that's it. That's the word. I've never seen a human that unnatural. The only time I was certain she was telling the truth was when she said she was friends with Mycroft" Sherlock stopped and was still once again. He turned to look at John with a crazed glint in his eyes.

He walked back to his black leather couch, took his coat and hurriedly wore it before turning his way to the door. Before he could go out, he looked back and smiled. "John, I've said this earlier and I'll say it again. Mycroft doesn't have friends. Yet it seems she is one. All I've seen says so. Yet again, all I've seen has only given me more questions."

"Where are you going?" John replied nervously. He knew though, that the answer was obvious. The smile told him everything.

"Out! I've got a new mystery to solve!"

Then the door was shut with a loud bang.

 **hgshhgshhgshhgshhgshhgsh**

"Hermione?"

Harry James Potter could confidently say he only witnessed his best friend like this twice in his life. The first time he saw her looked so lost and helpless was the time she obliviated her parents and the man he knew as Sherlock Holmes. The second time was when Bellatrix Lestrange carved that cursed word on her forearm. Now, he saw it again for the third time, as Hermione Granger stood there in his living room staring blankly at the dying embers of his fireplace.

It was a look that was so unlike Hermione that it scared him.

His best friend was always the person that Harry thought of as the epitome of life. She was always thriving against everything. Against people who ridiculed her, against problems she could only handle. She cried and broke but she proved everyone wrong. Even Voldemort only made her stronger. She was brilliant like that and whatever made her look like this again, Harry was determined to help her out of it.

"Hermione? Are you alright?"

"Wha-" she was startled into attention as Harry placed a comforting hand on her shoulders. "Oh, you're home. Yes, I'm quite alright Harry, thank you"

The boy who lived shook his head patiently. "No. I know that look. What happened at the meeting?"

His best friend gave a long sigh and then sat down at one of the couches. "It wasn't a meeting. I met up with Mycroft Holmes. You remember him?"

 **hgshhgshhgshhgshhgshhgsh**

Hermione watched as Harry went silent for a while. She told him what had happened during her day and recounting it surely made it even more real. Everything still felt like a dream somehow, or maybe more like a nightmare. She didn't know. She was lost enough as it is. No one prepared her for this day, not even herself. She already thought it was a lost cause, already given up what was too painful for her to dwell on.

 _It seems ghosts do haunt us after all._ She thought sadly. Atleast the war already taught her that much.

"Mione, I didn't ask before because it would only be silly. But didn't you try undoing the charm?" Harry asked hopefully. That's the thing about Harry, he's always hopeful. It made her smile a little albeit sadly.

"I can't"

"What do you mean?"

She looked away and was again lost in her thoughts. "He's different. His mind is more complex than most. It's more built than any master occlumens. I'll bet it's even more complex than mine. Undoing it would risk damaging his mind and I can't afford that"

"But how? He's just a muggle"

Hermione's only response was to smile again.

"He may be a muggle but he's got more magic than most wizards Harry"

"Well then, what are you going to do about it?" Harry asked calmly.

"I don't know" she looked down. And it was the truth, Hermione Granger didn't know. She couldn't bring herself to think straight. She was too lost in her melancholy to even bring herself to organise her thoughts. Harry didn't say anything for a while and she expected it atleast. After all, Harry and Ron didn't even meet Sherlock personally. They only ever knew of him from her stories. They only know him as her childhood friend. Only her parents could comprehend how much Sherlock meant to him, and maybe Mycroft too, but her parents stayed in Australia after getting back their memories and hasn't returned since and Mycroft would only cause more confusion to her already trouble head.

She was ready to drown herself even more with her thoughts but that was when Harry spoke.

He looked at her seriously. "That's not the Hermione I know at all"

This put her out of her reverie. "What are you talking about?"

"Well. . ." Harry stood up and gathered his coat and things. "for starters, the Hermione I know doesn't sit around and wait for things to go her way"

He went to where she was sitting and placed a light kiss on her forehead. "She also doesn't mope like this. She only mopes for a minute and then starts bossing life around and doing things her way" he laughed teasingly and walked away. "Goodnight Mione"

The next morning, Hermione woke up with a new resolve. She was determined to stop brooding anymore. Whatever happens, happens. What Harry said last night really put some sense into her and she was thankful for that. Now she only felt silly with the way she was acting yesterday. It seemed her Gryffindor courage was nowhere to be found when it concerns Sherlock but she was damned if she let it stay that way.

Breakfast was a loud event, with Harry's children running about and Ginny screaming her lungs out to keep order but it only helped lift her spirits. She heartily ate and laughed along the table when Albus Severus Potter did something silly with his food.

"Mione, are you going to stay longer? I could ask mum to watch the kids so we could hang out. Your visits are rare these days you know" Ginny asked while they were cleaning up after breakfast.

She smiled warmly at the woman who has grown to be like a sister. "I'm sorry Gin, but Hogwarts still feels like a different world somehow that I forget I could just apparate anytime, but don't worry. I'm staying in London for a while. I can visit more frequently and actually—" she checked her muggle watch for the time and gasped. "shit! I've got to prepare! somebody's picking me up in an hour"

Ginny only shook her head in fond exasperation. Mycroft arrived excactly an hour later to pick her up and both were quiet during the whole ride. She noticed he looked more severe than usual and decided to leave him to his thoughts. They arrived at Baker street in a while and just before she was about to go out Mycroft handed her a brown envelope.

"Pass this on to Sherlock will you. It's an important case. I've also already arranged everything with the landlady for you so you've got nothing to worry about except settling in. And oh, Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"Welcome home"

Hermione's heart swelled with warmth and she almost could feel the tears at the corner of her eyes. Almost. It was still Mycroft after all and she knew he hated any signs of sentiment and whatnot. The stubborn man. So instead she gave him a genuine smile and walked her way to Baker Street with determinstion. If she was to be part of Sherlock's life once more then she will do it right this time. It was after all, only a matter of perspective. Maybe it wouldn't be as bad as she thinks.

Just as she was about to go down the hall to find Mrs. Hudson, Sherlock Holmes and John Watson appeared at the top of the stairs.

Staying true to her resolve and occlumency safely in place - she's not quite at that level of confidence just yet - she greeted both gentlemen as brightly and as normal as she could.

"Good morning gentlemen, where are you heading so early in the morning?"

Sherlock ignored her and went straight to the door. John was the one who answered with a charming albeit still a little bit wary smile. "Scotland Yard. We've got a call from a detective"

"That sounds fun!"

"Quite, if you're Sherlock" John chuckled. "You moving in today?"

"Yes, but I've got to talk to Mrs. Hudson first. See you guys later!" She called out to both and resumed walking on her way but Sherlock spoke at last.

"Miss Granger?"

Hesitantly, she looked back. "Yes?"

Sherlock smirked mischievously. "Welcome back"


End file.
